


A Year of Firsts

by linzclair219



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Developing Relationship, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 05:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linzclair219/pseuds/linzclair219
Summary: “They lay close together. Their arms touch, all the way down to where their knuckles brush together, sharing their warmth.”13 months. 13 firsts.The blossoming of a relationship that neither person is looking for, or wants to let go of.Canon divergent (for so many reasons but specifically) in that this predates “Monster’s Legacy” and Johnny’s mother isn’t dying.My attempt at a sweet story for two horribly under appreciated characters.





	A Year of Firsts

  1. _First Meeting_



Cigarettes and alcohol. That’s what temptation smells like. It fills Johnny’s lungs as he steps through the bar door even though he hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol in three years. He rubs his pink knuckles for warmth, trying to ward off the burning that comes from forgetting gloves.

_Dammit, it’s October. When the hell did it get this cold in October?_

“Johnny!” The exclamation breaks through his thoughts, and he nearly elbows Matt in the chest. _How did I walk past that?_

Matt’s hair is black, now. Not the blonde it had been the last time he’d called him for help. That’s a stark contrast to the neon orange sweater hanging off of his thinned out frame, but it seems to go with the purple pigment smeared across his eyelids.

“Matt…what…?” Johnny asks, then catches the man when he goes to stand up off of his stool. “Woah, hey, easy there man.”

“Johnny! You came!” he repeats, his arms wrapping loosely around Johnny’s waist in a sort of hug. Johnny grabs him by the hips and pulls him up, planting him back on the stool before pulling out of his grasp.

“You said it was an emergency.”

“Yeah…I was” he hiccups “lonely. D-Didn’t wanna be alone.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, the rage creeping up the back of his throat. “I’m leaving.”

His lower lip pushes out in a pout, and he blinks a few times. “W-What? Why would you” another hiccup “do that?”

“Matt, I-I just left work and found six panicked messages on my phone. I thought you were better?”

“Well now I’m even better!” He throws his head back in a laugh, and the barstool tips under his weight. He would’ve crashed to the floor if Johnny didn’t grab him by the forearms, probably hard enough to leave marks.

“Christ, you’re a mess. Come on, I’ll get you home.”

Again Matt’s face twists, going sad and puppy like. A few tears actually creep up. “I-I don’t wanna go home…no…no, Johnny, please” the word comes out a slurred plea. “Don’t make me go home alone.”

Johnny chews his lip, biting off a flake of skin. With the dark color running down his cheeks, it almost looks like he’s been beat up. Really…how can he blame Matt for not wanting to be alone at night?

“I-“

“Matt.” A stern voice cuts through their conversation, and Johnny’s back goes straight, putting space between him and this imposing man with a strong voice and a glare fit to kill. Matt turns his head to take him in. Johnny’s heart lurches at the sight of the badge hanging around this man’s neck, resting in the V of his slightly open jacket, over his dark tie and light shirt. Johnny’s legs want to bolt, but his feet are suddenly filled with lead.

“Hey Mikey” Matt’s voice is wistful as he tilts his head up. “What’re you doing here? You don’t” hiccup “drink during the week.”

“Since when the hell are you drinking again anyway? And why are you sat alone in a crowded bar?”

“I’m not alone. Johnny’s here,” he gestures, vaguely in Johnny’s direction. Johnny’s eyes drop and his hands fold behind his back.

“Why did you call me?” Mikey spaces out the words, while hunching down to get in Matt’s face.

“I did? Aw, Mike, you shouldn’t have. I’m just hanging out with Johnny.”

“Not anymore you’re not. I’m taking you home.”

“No!” Matt grabs the lapels of Mike’s jacket. From where he’s stood, all Johnny can see is Matt’s back and the way his shoulders shake. “Don’t make me go home, I don’t wanna see dad.”

“What? No, your home. Jesus, Matt come on.” Mike pulls a $50 out of his wallet and slaps it on the bar, then grabs Matt by the waist. Only then do his intense eyes fix on Johnny in a way they haven’t yet. “Do you need a ride?”

“N-No I’m fine.”

“Aw, Johnny no, don’t walk all the way home! You’ll freeze your ears off! Then how’re you gonna hear?”

Mike sighs and looks at Johnny. “Come on. I’ll drop you off somewhere.”

“A-Alright.” Johnny chokes out the word, and Matt cheers as Mikey drags him out of the bar. He gets loaded into the back of a black car, laying on his side with his face pressed into a towel in the crack of the seat. Johnny’s both relieved and tense when he climbs into the car, where both the air around him and the seat beneath him are heated.

About halfway to Matt’s place, Mike decides to hang a right and parks right in front of a building.

“I’m going to bring my brother upstairs before he pukes in my car. I can call you a cab if you want?”

Johnny looks at Mike. Under the bright interior lights, Mike’s eyes are green, and bright green too. More than he’d had time to notice in the bar. Johnny’s palms sweat.

“Uh, no, no, th-thanks though.”

Now Johnny’s feet move when he tells them to. His hands freeze, even stuffed deep in his pockets, when he hops out of the car.

 

  1. _First Gift_



The next time Matt’s name pops up on Johnny’s phone, he doesn’t answer it. He doesn’t answer it the second time either. Or the third time. Or the fourth time.

He’s not trying to be mean, but he also knows better than to pick up when he’s in the middle of his shift. Even if his supervisor leaves at eight, the last thing he needs is to be seen slacking off on the sec-

Johnny tightens his grip on his mop handle every time the thought pops up. And it does, like clockwork, right before the end of every shift. It means he gets the hell out of there, finding solace in the lack of surveillance on the street, where he finally picks up his phone. There’s messages waiting for him.

“Hi…Johnny…it’s Matt…like you figured…please call me.”

“Hey man…just…like, you don’t have to pick up, but I wanted you to know I’m sorry. About last time.”

“Hey, Matt again…listen man, I’m really friggin’ lonely right now and you’re the only person I know who’s got their shit together. Can you please…just…forget it.”

“No, wait, actually, could you please come over? I’m at my brother’s place but he’s not coming home until late. Please man, I’m…I’m just…it’s not good.”

Matt rambles out his brother’s address before hanging up the final time. The last message is from an hour and a half ago…and still Johnny finds himself walking in the opposite direction from his excuse for a home.

He presses the apartment buzzer, and jumps back when a voice comes down the line that’s definitely not Matt’s.

“Hello?”

His tongue is gone for a moment, tied up in angst and the desire to bolt. “Uh…it’s…”

“Johnny?” The distorted voice asks.

_How did he know that?_

“Uh huh.”

A moment later, the door clicks open. Johnny’s palms start to sweat, and his knuckles itch. He should go. He should really go.

The building greets him with a warm gust of air that seeps straight through his layers of sweatshirts. By the time he’s on Mike’s floor, he’s stripped off two garments.

This time Mike’s eyes are softer, and his frame is concealed by an NYPD sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants when he opens the door. “My brother called you, right?”

“Yeah…i-is he alright?”

“He’s okay. He’s asleep now.”

“Oh…well, I guess I should go-“

“No, no don’t do that.” Mike opens the door the rest of the way. “Come on in. Just for a few minutes.”

“Y-You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Please.”

Johnny’s heart tightens again, and he goes in despite his instincts. He stops at the threshold and looks around, taking in the very plain apartment. White walls, grey and black furniture, some books scattered around…Johnny slides off the last sweatshirt he’s wearing and lets the warmth touch him directly.

“I’m sorry my brother brought you all the way over here. Do you want something to drink?”

 _NO_ his brain screams. “Uh…no, no thanks, I don’t…anymore.”

“Oh, no, no I meant like a coffee or something.” Mike tries, his voice raising in volume, making Johnny flinch. He quiets, and clears his throat. “I…I could make tea too. Or just some water, if you want something cold.”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise, and Mike lets out a soft, partly embarrassed laugh. “I know, what a good idea.”

“Tea’s fine.” Johnny answers. “Whatever’s easy.”

Mike makes tea from a k-cup. It’s sweet and flowery and Johnny wonders if he’s sensitive enough to caffeine to still be kept awake by whatever’s in this tea. But he finishes the glass quickly. He takes a sip every time Mike’s sweatshirt reminds Johnny of who Mike is, and who he is. The sips of tea are supposed to stop Johnny from wondering too loudly if Mike knows who Johnny is, knows his past, and knows that any other time they would’ve met would have involved handcuffs, and probably a knock to Mike’s pretty nose first.

Actually…his whole face is a bit pretty. The thin line of his mouth, the brightness of his green eyes…

Until those eyes blink at him, and Johnny realizes he’s been staring. He finishes what’s left of his drink. “Thanks for the tea.” He forces his voice to be even.

“No problem, really.” Mike answers as Johnny pulls on his first layer. “Don’t you have a jacket?”

“Uh…no…I lost mine.”

“Oh wow. This really isn’t the time of year to lose your jacket. You know it’s going to start snowing tonight?”

“Really?” Johnny asks with more sadness than he’d meant to. Mike chews the inside of his cheek a moment, then disappears from the kitchen. Tentatively, Johnny follows, pulling on his second layer. He finds Mike pushing through a small closet. After a minute, he pulls out a thick, chocolate brown jacket.

“Here.”

“What?” Johnny steps back as the garment is offered to him. “I-I can’t take your coat. You need it.”

“I haven’t worn this coat in three years, easily. Please? I’ll feel better knowing you’re not out there without a coat.”

“Why do you care?”

Mike pulls his arm back slightly, and something in his face turns sad. “I…”

“Thank you.” Johnny says, and takes the jacket from Mike’s grasp before he can get any more upset. It’s a tight squeeze with his layers underneath, but Johnny knows he’ll be warm. “I’ll give it back.”

“Keep it. I don’t need it.”

“I don’t like charity.” _Jesus, you sound like a real dick._

“So don’t think of it as charity.” Mike’s voice hardens. “Think of it as…a really timely gift.”

“Well…thanks.” Johnny says, and leaves before he can say anything else rude to this surprisingly sweet cop.  

 

  1. _First Date_



Johnny’s the only person sat in Liberty Diner that isn’t a Jew or a working girl. But he doesn’t care. He couldn’t go back to his hole in the wall and be alone when Christmas Eve turned into Christmas day. Sure, he could go to his mother’s house, but there’s no way he could spend the night there. Too many memories.

On instinct, Johnny’s head lifts when he hears the door creak open. His heart leaps into his throat at the sight of Mike, his beige coat and dark hair dusted with snowflakes. Before he can drop his gaze, Mike catches sight of him.

Those lips pull up into a slight smile as he nears the table. Johnny’s back straightens, and his hands tighten around his coffee cup.

“Hi Johnny.”

“Hey…Mike, right?” Johnny asks, compressing his fingers together against the ceramic.

“Yeah, Mike. You mind?” he asks, pointing to the opposite side of the booth.

“Go ahead.” _Wait, what? WHAT?!_

Mike sits, and looks at the menu that Johnny had pushed to his side of the booth when it was still empty. It only takes a few glances before he looks up again.

“Did you want something to eat?”

Johnny’s stomach rumbles, but only in a way that can be felt, not heard. “No, I’m fine.”

“You sure? My treat.”

“You don’t have to.”

Mike shrugs. “It’s Christmas, besides, I’m starved and I just got off of work.”

Mike signals the waitress over and orders. And, shockingly, so does Johnny. Just eggs, not a full breakfast like Mike orders.

“So…you only just got off of work? Don’t you people have holidays?” Johnny asks after a few moments of silence. Mike shrugs.

“Sure, we do. But I just got my sergeant’s stripes this year, so that means I get all of the crap hours.”

Somehow, Johnny isn’t surprised that this clean cut, well groomed, generous man earned himself a promotion. Though, it does make him wonder how he ended up as a cop. “Wow...the time thing sucks but…sergeant…that’s good right?”

“Well it means I have even fewer people who want to be seen with me.”

Johnny raises his eyebrows, especially at the way Mike seems to smile. “You’re kidding?”

“No. Not at all. Between me being who I am and my dad being who he is...”

Johnny blinks. 

“How much has my brother told you about our dad?”

“Uh...I mean...n-nothing, really.” 

Mike sighs softly. “He’s uh” Mike smiles, but looks down at the linoleum table instead of Johnny’s face. “Something. He messed us up pretty good.”

Johnny’s stomach tightens. His hands ache. He scratches his knuckles. “What did he do?”

Mike sighs and pushes a hand through his dark hair. “He applied a lot of pressure on us when we were kids. We needed to do things the right way or not at all. Kids…well, pressure acts on them in different ways. Take my brother. He didn’t handle pressure so well.”

“But you did.”

That joyless smile reappears, and he traces circles in the precipitation of his water glass. “That’s generous. You don’t even know me.”

“Well I’d…like to…know you…” Johnny wrings his hands under the table as the words trickle out. When he looks up, he meets Mike’s gaze. His face is soft, and the fluorescent light really catches the dots of brown in his green eyes. Johnny can’t breathe, too afraid to break the moment. If he breathes, he risks blowing away those beautiful, iridescent flecks.

Mike breaks their gaze before Johnny turns blue. “There’s not much to know.”

“I don’t believe that.” Johnny finds his voice. The places it would usually be brittle, particularly around the word “I” are firm. Mike folds his arms and rests them on the table, leaning closer to Johnny.

“It’s true. I’m a cop. I was a soldier. Before that I was a…well, I was a kid.”

“Kids care about things.”

Mike shrugs, his thumb running over one of the curves of his bicep as he thinks. “I suppose.”

“Matt…he mentioned something about college, once. That you went. What’d you do there?”

The smile that crosses Mike’s face reaches his eyes. He scratches his nose before speaking. “Double major in history and English. Didn’t want to be a cop then.”

Johnny leans in, his chest pressing against the edge of the table. “What did you want?”

The question takes Mike aback. He blinks emphatically, he sips his chlorine flavored water, and he wipes his nose on the back of his hand. “I wanted to care about something. I wanted to be passionate about something.”

“Did you find it?” Johnny asks, his voice small, making room for Mike’s. Mike’s hand- the one stroking his bicep- moves up to cup the back of his neck.

“No. I never found it…such a shame.” The words are soft, like they’re more for himself than Johnny.

“I’m sorry.” Johnny blurts out, and Mike looks up. His face is soft again and those eyes…god, those eyes…

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Well someone should be. And it seems like your dad isn’t.”

“Well…he didn’t do anything to me in that regard. It’s not like he beat my interests out of me.”

“So what? He wasn’t paying attention? Parents who don’t pay attention do even more damage.”

The words escape Johnny, and he feels a wave of nausea pass over him. Mike’s face twists with worry as Johnny pales before him. There’s a solid minute of silence between them as Johnny tries to regain himself.

“Thank you.” Mike murmurs before their food is placed in front of them. It’s the last they talk until their food is finished and it’s well after one in the morning. “Do you want a ride home?”

“No…no, thanks though.”

“Do you want to do this again some time?”

Johnny almost drops his mug as he goes to take a final sip of his coffee. Obviously, his face betrays his emotions since Mike turns beet red and he reaches to rub the back of his neck.

“We don’t have to. It was just an idea. But if…if I’ve made some awful mistake, please just tell me.”

“No. You haven’t.”

Mike looks up. Jesus, those eyes are so expressive. He looks like he’s just been thrown a life preserver. “I…you…”

“Are you gonna give me your phone?” The slight quirk of a smile on Johnny’s face makes Mike almost drop his phone as he hands it over.

 

  1. _First Kiss_



If Johnny could run to Mike’s car without slipping on ice, he would. Even his workboots don’t guarantee him even tread on the slippery spots which are mostly hidden once it’s dark out. Mike has to grab the hood of his car when he walks around in front of it, but laughs it off. The sound is contagious.

They sit there, idling in the parallel parked spot as the car warms. Johnny shoves his hands between his thighs and the seat, letting the seat warmer do its job.

“Okay, so I can tell you this now.” Mike says while rubbing the tops of his thighs, trying to warm them and his hands. “I saw at least four guys in there who started working out at my gym at the beginning of the year. But not in the last…two weeks?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” He places one of his hands over the heating vent. “I know one of them for sure saw me because he looked at me and then looked right away.”

“Aw damn…looks like people stopped caring about their New Year’s resolutions.”

“Looks like it.” Mike agrees before putting the car in gear. “Have you given up on yours yet?”

“Oh, I didn’t make one.”

“Smart. Almost every time those things turn out to be a crock.”

“Wow. So I take it you didn’t make one?” Johnny asks. When he doesn’t get an answer, he looks over at Mike, whose eyes are decidedly fixed on the road. Johnny smiles. “You did. You did, didn’t you.”

“See? I’m glad we went somewhere different for dinner, gave us something to talk about.”

“Does it count as dinner if it’s past midnight when you eat it?”

They spend a minute debating what dinner/breakfast would be called before Johnny comes back to his question. “So…resolution? You have one?”

Mike shrugs. “I mean…not really.”

“Don’t you want to tell me?”

“If I tell you it won’t come true.”

“I thought that was for wishes. A resolution isn’t a wish.”

“Eh…it’s a bit of a wish. I don’t have a way of finding it on my own.”

“Then why make it a resolution?” Johnny turns in his seat so he can look at Mike while they talk. He wants to see the slight twitch of his mouth or the way he rubs his nose, which is still nearly frozen.

“It was more a hope than anything else. Something I’d love to happen but…well, I won’t be shocked if it doesn’t.”

Mike glances over to see Johnny’s face, creased in thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to dampen the mood.”

“No, no it’s okay…you’re alright, don’t worry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks.” Mike squeezes the steering wheel. Before the silence can get awkward, Mike asks. “So, did you really watch a guy stagger out of the office building you work in today?”

Johnny remembers this anecdote, which was cut off when the waiter came to take their order. He recounts it again, the guy dressed in a cheap suit who’d needed two of his buddies to walk him out. And then his mind goes somewhere.

“How’s Matt?”

“Better.” Mike answers after a moment. “You know, he’s in rehab. Again. But I think it’s really going to stick this time.”

“That’s good. One can hope, right?”

“Right.” Mike agrees, as a whole slew of questions come to his tongue. None of which he asks. He doesn’t ask a single question until they’re parked in front of Johnny’s sketchy apartment building. Mike turns the car off, locks the doors, then looks over at Johnny in the glow of the streetlights. This one pushes its way off his tongue. “Can I kiss you?”

Mike can make out the bloom of color at the top of Johnny’s cheek. He waits for an answer.

“Do you usually ask?” Johnny finally says, burying his fists in the sleeves of his- really Mike’- coat.

“Yes.” Mike answers timidly. Johnny blinks and looks away, his heart pounding.

“Okay. Sure.”

Johnny shivers when Mike reaches a hand over to cup his face, revealing fully the blush that’s formed. As Mike leans in, that hand slides up into Johnny’s hair. He leans in, closer and closer, and Johnny lets his eyes shut.

And then he feels it. Mike’s lips press to his stubbled cheek. Johnny blinks his eyes open, and he relishes in the feeling of the warm breath washing over his already hot skin. He lingers there for a few long seconds before pulling away with a soft pecking sound. Mike pulls away enough to look at Johnny, his sweet, soft face looking rather pliant.

“Was that okay?” Mike asks softly. Johnny brings a hand up to touch the warm spot on his face, like he could absorb its warmth into the rest of his body through his fingers.

“Yeah…that was…that was really nice,” Johnny admits in a soft voice, a smile spreading over his face. One that Mike mirrors, and one that holds fast even after he’s said his goodnight and is walking away from the warm hug of a car.

 

  1. _First panic_



Johnny straightens his tie for the thousand and first time before walking into the same mildly-fancy Italian restaurant Mike had gotten take out from for Johnny’s birthday not a week earlier. His hands burn when he walks into the crowded restaurant. His heart races as he sweeps over the main dining area, before finding Mike, sat at a table for two on his phone. Johnny sighs out of his nose and slips off his coat before going over to the table and tapping one of those well muscled shoulders.

Why do Mike’s eyes have to light up that way when he sees Johnny? Why does he have to look like someone’s turned on a switch that makes him beam? It makes Johnny weak. And so does the tender peck on the cheek Johnny gets when he leans down for it. He wishes his hair didn’t get in the way, but Mike doesn’t seem to care.

“Eleven at night on Valentine’s day. I thought things would be calmer.”

“Yeah, really.” Johnny agrees, and smooths his hands over his nice jeans. “Still…I’m kinda glad we’re here.”

“Me too.” Mike replies, leaning in over the table so Johnny can hear him. And Johnny does the same. The only thing between them are a few glasses of water and an electric candle. “Can I confess something?”

“Sure, but I’m bad with secrets.” Johnny grins, just slightly, and Mike chuckles. Yes, because the guy with maybe one friend can’t keep a secret.

“I’ve never been with someone for Valentine’s Day before.”

Johnny stares, a few seconds longer than he should, before scoffing. “Wow. No pressure or anything.”

“Right, of course, zero pressure.” Mike agrees, and they dissolve into giggles. Giggles that don’t really stop until Mike pushes a strand of hair out of Johnny’s face, and he turns red in the places Mike’s finger touched him. Johnny wonders, deep inside himself, if Mike is lying to make Johnny feel better. How can a guy this gorgeous never had a date on Valentine’s Day before?

But if it is true, Johnny’s glad to be the first. He relishes in the way they lean in close to talk softly about their days, first over mozzarella sticks and then over plates of fettuccini and linguini. Johnny…he takes special pleasure in reaching over and swiping a dab of cream sauce from the corner of Mike’s mouth and then popping it into his own. When was the last time Johnny was brave enough to touch another person that wasn’t his mother when he wasn’t drunk?

Besides Mike’s sweet hugs goodnight. And Mike’s tender hand holding. And Mike’s kind-

“A picture of your evening?” A voice breaks their moment. Johnny’s head snaps up, and something white hot grabs his throat at the new polaroid hipster nostalgia camera in the short man’s hand.

“NO!”

Mike jumps back, and so does the man with the camera.

“I-I’m-“

“NO! GET THAT THING THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”

Johnny’s out of his chair but he can’t feel his legs. The man with the camera is getting closer…no…he’s getting closer to the man…who, through no fault of his own, now looks just like Martin Schultz…

Something closes around Johnny’s waist. He sends an elbow flying back, then whips around to see the culprit.

“Johnny, calm down.” Mike’s voice is far away, like he’s underwater, concealed by the sound of the blood pulsing in Johnny’s ears. But Johnny does see Mike’s hand, which is clutching his chest. A shock of cold chases the boiling anger out of Johnny’s body, making his hands shake and his eyes water.

“No…n-no…” Johnny whispers the words. When Mike reaches out, he shies away.

“Johnny, come on…come on Johnny…” Mike’s hand nears him and, gently, wraps around his trembling wrist. The walls melt…actually, no. They’re blurred by tears. Fat, wet, burning tears that soak Johnny’s face. Mike wipes his face with paper towel, and it’s just as well. You can’t dry tears with sweaty hands.

When he can, Johnny hides his face against Mike’s neck, letting out only the tiniest of wordless sobs.

Johnny ends up left in the warming car, though the shame of what he did comes back in sharp, cold pricks. He doesn’t look at Mike when he gets in the car, ignoring the crinkling of a plastic bag that gets placed on the floor behind Johnny’s seat. His eyes stay closed. His tongue aches with apologies when it should be searching for an explanation.

The car stops, and Johnny expects to open his eyes to see his ratty apartment building. Except…

He turns to look at Mike, his eyes tender in the soft street light. “I know you couldn’t stay there. But I thought we could spend the night here, at my place…or I could take you home…”

Johnny rubs his eyes, then leans his head back against the rest again. “I really hope I wasn’t your first Valentine’s Day.”

Mike chews on his lip, Johnny can see in his peripheral vision. He sits there, quiet, contemplative. “I got us dessert.”

Johnny rolls his head over to look at Mike’ his face soft with pain. “Yeah?” he asks, throat sore.

“Yeah. Cannoli.”

As nauseated as Johnny is, the thought of sugar to take away the bile in the back of his throat sounds like the perfect relief. “You didn’t have to.”

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Mike says, and pops the door open.

They go inside. Both of their ties get cast off. They sit in Mike’s living room, quiet for a few moments as they each eat two overstuffed cannoli. It tastes like comfort and disappointment. Johnny’s heart aches when Mike’s arm reaches around and rests on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I hit you.” Johnny murmurs, the taste of chocolate and powdered sugar still on his lips. Carefully, Mike squeezes Johnny’s shoulder.

“You were scared…”

 _You have no idea._ “I hurt you.”

“I’ve gotten worse.” Mike murmurs.

“Yeah, from criminals.” He spits out the word, and Mike flinches. _Get out. Get out. Leave him alone. He deserves better than some broken toy._

“From my own brother. He’s done way worse-“

“Okay Mike.” Johnny says, and squirms out of his grasp. _Get out. Leave him. Leave him before he knows._

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” Johnny says, but his voice is weak again.

“Spend the night.”

Johnny blinks hard, and turns back to Mike.

“Uh, y’know, not, not like _that,_ but, like, I have a spare room. You can stay in there. Please.”

Johnny rubs his elbow, feeling where a bruise that he’ll only feel instead of see will appear tomorrow. “I don’t know.”

“Please…it’ll make me feel better. I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

Johnny’s heart feels fit to burst at those words. At the same time, his heart turns to putty. His brain screams _don’t, he deserves better, don’t bother him with this crap. Let him go. Let him find someone who’s not damaged goods._ But still, he stays. He stays to spite the angry, dissonant voices in his head. He stays in defiance of Schultz’s hands, which threaten to pull him down into a bottle.

It makes Johnny feel better too. He finds that he likes falling asleep in the warm darkness of Mike’s spare room while wrapped in one of his oversized t-shirts, knowing that his patient cop is asleep in the next room.

 

  1. _First Confession_



_How the hell are these people not cold?_

That’s what Johnny wonders as he walks down one of the avenues, watching the way drunk people fall over one another while wearing nothing but green shorts and tank tops. Johnny buries his fists deeper into his pockets and puts his head down, walking past every raucous bar that gets in his way.

_I’m going to see Mike. I’m going to see Mike. I’m going to see Mike._

Johnny chants this to himself, over and over again as his walk stretches on and on. Finally, the building is in sight, and if it weren’t still icy in some spots he would run to the door. His hands are still red from cold as he shoves the key into the building’s lock, but they’ve stopped shaking by the time he lets himself into Mike’s apartment.

Immediately, Johnny knows something is wrong. The TV is on, but the living room lights are off. Johnny’s knuckle’s burn in anticipation, gearing up for fighting instead of fleeing.

“Johnny?” Mike’s voice raises over the TV volume. Johnny comes around to the couch, where Mike is laid with a blanket pulled over him. There’s a flash of panic, Mike looking too much like his mother had the first time she came down with pneumonia. So small, so weak, so blue.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Johnny leans down and touches Mike’s face, his calloused palm being itched by Mike’s stubble. One of Mike’s hands rest over his, and a sigh escapes his nose.

“I’m okay, I’m just in some pain right now, that’s all.”

“Pain? Pain from what?”

Even in the dark, he can see the pain hiding in those eyes of his. The only soft thing on a body full of hard plains and rigid muscle. Johnny drops his hand as Mike sits up and clicks on the lamp light, then slowly lifts his shirt.

“O-Oh...oh my...” Johnny’s voice weakens as he looks at the sprawling purples and blues permeating Mike’s creamy skin. But they radiate from two distinct points on his right side. He makes like he’s going to caress them, but his hands tremble. His sweaty palms turn cold in the open air. “Someone shot you” he breathes the words out. Every other sentence he tries to start is in vain, just pushing him further towards weeping. Which, he does.

He wraps his arms around Mike’s shoulders, while keeping their torsos far apart, and hides his face in Mike’s neck as he weeps. Small, sad, pathetic sounds, as the moment Johnny has fabricated together already plays behind his eyelids. A man in a ski mask, aiming his gun at Mike’s lungs, hoping for blood to come pouring out so he can get out of the bank with his sack full of money.

“I know, Johnny. I know.”

 _Get out of the way, lawman!_ The gruff, familiar voice of the criminal yells. Mike’s stance doesn’t waver as the short, fat man brandishes the gun at him

“It’s okay, I’m okay, it was just some drunk.” Mike’s voice repeats over and over as he pets Johnny’s hair, sliding through the slightly tangled sections and gently unknotting them.

Something falls out of Johnny’s mouth. His words form a sound, over and over again, but with his eyes closed and his grip so loose, he can’t understand himself.

A solid hand rubs Johnny’s back.

A pair of lips rests on Johnny’s forehead.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” Johnny hears this chant, over and over again in a lowering voice. His breathing slows. The words stop.

“I love you.” The words are said again, this time in Mike’s voice. Johnny lifts his gaze, and the tears rolling down Mike’s reddened face repeat the sentiment.

“I love you.” Johnny pipes up when his tongue is his own again. The words taste good on his lips, despite the salt of his tears and the nasty bile in his throat.

Mike’s lips taste good too, despite the same problem.

Mike tastes warm and powerful and strong.

Mike tastes alive.

 

  1. _First Night_



“So, I checked. And the roof is open again.”

Johnny’s ears perk up at the word ‘roof’. “Really?”

“Yeah. I checked when I came home from work.”

Johnny chuckles and turns his gaze on Mike where he’s rinsing off dishes. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Well, Matt was here. It was nice, sitting with him, having dinner. I didn’t want to break up the evening.”

Johnny glances at the stove clock. Only quarter after midnight. “Looks like we’re pretty free now.”

He looks back at Mike, who’s already smiling. “Really? You don’t have some hot date for your Friday night?”

Johnny reaches over and pokes Mike in the chest, something that hurts himself more than it does Mike, but it makes the dark haired man chuckle. “That’s not funny.” Johnny protests, but that’s despite the small smile holding fast on his face.

“Come on, let’s go.” Mike says. Johnny grabs one of Mike’s sweatshirts out of the hall closet. Sure, he could go and get one of his own out of the spare room dresser, but that one wouldn’t smell like Mike, now would it?

Sure enough, the roof door is unlocked when they get to it. The snow that had kept this part of their building blocked off for months was now melted, though the night was brisk.

Mike rolls out a blanket on a dry patch of ground.

Mike lays down first, and then Johnny lays next to him.

Despite the city lights, the sky is clear enough after a week of rain that they can pick out some stars.

They lay there, talking about easy things. Their conversation flows and winds and dips, and how beautiful it is, for them to just talk.

They lay close together. Their arms touch, all the way down to where their knuckles brush together, sharing their warmth.

They lay there, until Friday night undoubtedly becomes Saturday morning, with the blackened sky turning blue overhead.

He may be dead tired now, but Johnny knows three things for sure.

  1. He’s glad he doesn’t have to go to work.
  2. He doesn’t regret drinking four sodas with dinner like he thought he would.
  3. He’s never voluntarily stayed up all night. It was always at the will of his anxiety or one of his less than trustworthy friends that Johnny saw all hours of the clock tick past. And maybe this is part of Johnny getting better. Him learning that he doesn’t need to be afraid of the night if someone’s willing to get through it with him and still be by his side in the morning.



It hits Johnny, as he’s laying down in the spare bedroom with Mike’s sweatshirt still wrapped around his shoulders just how much easier surviving his nights are when he has Mike by his side.

 

  1. _First Sleep_



The first thing Mike does when he comes home is change out of his clothes. His long sleeves are clinging to his arms when he peels them away. Mike lets himself get comfortable, and it’s much easier than it used to be. He comes home and he doesn’t sit in his suits for hours before bothering to get changed, and usually then it’s just into pajamas. Now he dresses in sweatpants. Or what he remembers Johnny calling ‘publically accepted pajamas.’

A smile perks up on Mike’s lips when he thinks about that. Still, he feels a little thrill at knowing Johnny will come home later. It’s been…oh god, months now, since Mike stopped having to come home to an empty apartment.

When he sees the clock turn to eight, Mike picks up his phone and makes his nightly call. Depending on the job, Johnny could be home anywhere between nine and twelve, and Mike would like to know what time to order them dinner, since it’s been firmly established that neither of them can manage anything more complicated than pasta.

Mike picks up his phone, then jumps when a buzzing sound startles him. He walks over to Johnny’s phone, where it’s laying on the kitchen table.

“What the…?” Mike mumbles. He knows for damn sure that he got a text from Johnny in the middle of the day. He even checks and makes sure. Yes, they were from that day.

Mike takes new care in walking around their apartment while searching for him. He knocks softly on Johnny’s door. No answer, but still Mike goes in. And what he finds makes his heart leap into his throat.

“Johnny?” Mike asks as he walks over to the lump under the bed covers. He gently pulls the blanket away, revealing the familiar mop of hair. Mike rests a hand on the back of Johnny’s neck, while two fingers check for a pulse. “Johnny…hon…”

He hums under Mike’s touch, and Mike sits on the edge of the bed.

“Johnny…Johnny…are you sick? Are you okay?”

Johnny rolls over onto his back, his blue eyes pained with such a strong, heartbreaking look, which is intensified by his gaze being bloodshot.

“Johnny…how long have you been home?”

He rubs one of his eyes. “A-A few hours…I think…”

“Okay…can you tell me what you’re doing home? And why you didn’t call me?”

Johnny sniffs and blinks hard. “I…I uh…”

Mike waits, and Johnny bites his lip. “C-Can you hold me?”

Mike forces himself to slowly move under the covers and wrap his arms around Johnny. Johnny pushes closer, his head resting on Mike’s shoulder. “If you want to…you know…talk…”

There it is. There it fucking is. The words climb up onto Johnny’s tongue, just waiting to be spoken. A chill passes through Johnny, and a sweat forms on his skin. He feels sick, like he’s sick with a fever and he needs to vomit. That feeling only gets stronger as he remembers what he saw after getting off of work. All of those kids, getting on the bus for the open air camp.

“I-I saw some k-kids today. H-Headed upstate…for summer camp…with their sleeping bags, and their suitcases, a-and…”

“And they scared you?” Mike asks softly.

“I-It’s not them…it’s me.” Johnny manages, and sucks in a breath. “It’s me, it’s me…it’s me…”

The real words are sitting in Johnny’s throat, waiting to be released. He wants to expel his painful burden. He knows he’ll feel so much better. His clammy fists clamp down around Mike’s shoulders, fighting what he knows can’t end well. Finally, after so many years, someone waiting to hear the words that Johnny’s never stopped gagging on

“Coach Schultz” the words come out strangled and broken. Johnny looks at Mike for a half second, long enough to see the intense focus in those green eyes before shutting his own tight. He doesn’t want to see the moment when Mike realizes that Johnny is damaged goods. “E-Every other night...he’d wake me up...he’d drag m-me out of bed...a-and he’d take me to his basement...” he trails off into sniveling weeping. 

“Oh my god, Johnny...” Mike breathes the words, and his grip tightens.

“Every _other_ night...” Johnny feels hot, from the blankets and the sweatshirt and the furnace of a body pressed against him. But still he clings on, as waves of nauseated relief wash over him. The weight of the words feel unreal, now that they’re out of Johnny’s mouth. A hand comes up to Johnny’s hair, warm hands petting his scalp, intensifying the already sickening heat enveloping Johnny.

“Don’t leave me...please don’t leave me... please don’t leave me...” Johnny begs, his clammy palms closing around clumps of Mike’s t-shirt. 

A soft, forgiving pair of lips presses against his forehead. “I’m not leaving you. I’m never leaving you.” He murmurs the words against Johnny’s skin, which makes him cry harder. Sadness...relief...guilt...they mix and marry and collect in tear stains on Johnny’s skin and Mike’s shirt. 

“I love you.” Johnny manages. 

“I love you too.” Mike murmurs, his grip getting even tighter. 

That grip is still there when, even in the sickening heat, Johnny manages to fall asleep.

But it’s lessened by the time when Johnny wakes, and Mike is still there.

 

  1. _First Day_



People walk by the sub shop window without a second glance at Johnny. In return, Johnny keeps his eyes down on his plate, refraining from leering at people who are dressed in tight, skimpy clothes. He gives them the respect of not making them into objects, into toys.

Even though Johnny doesn’t do that to people. As he chews, he thinks about the appointment he’s just come from. Yes, yes, he knows Dr. Lindstrom is right, that Johnny isn’t a pervert but fears becoming no better than his own abusers, but still…he feels better, keeping his head down and his mind on his mostly finished lunch. He bends his head down further when he goes to suck the mayo off of his fingers, warding off anyone else’s unwanted looks.

“Johnny?” The oh-so-familiar voice breaks his angsts and makes his head lift. Mike’s wearing the same suit he’d had on when he left that morning, but it looks different under the full light of day. Brighter. The smile on his face is just as bright.

“Hey you,” Johnny says, and gets up as Mike walks closer. Mike’s arms envelope him in a hug, and then his lips peck Johnny’s cheek. When they release from their hug, he gets another peck on the lips.

“You have off today?” Mike asks, and Johnny nods along.

“Yeah. I had off today. I just came from…y’know, with the doctor-“

“Oh, right, right that’s on Wednesday’s. Sorry, I forgot.”

Johnny’s smile widens slightly, and he pats Mike’s arm. “It’s alright. Hey, what’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

He gives Johnny his ‘yikes’ face, the same he gets after watching a particularly bad movie trailer or hanging up with his father. “I had to get out of the office, I offered to pick up lunch.”

“Oh…bad day?”

“Like I’m banging my head against a wall. I just needed to take a walk before I took someone’s head off.”

Johnny laughs again, then clears his throat. “Sorry, I-I know it’s not fun for you.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I needed to hear your laugh right now.”

Johnny laughs again, but it’s colored with his nerves. The butterflies that still come to life at the sight (or thought) of Mike flap their wings, and Johnny feels himself blush. It makes the look on Mike’s face even more tender, before his eyes glance down at the table. “Are you just about done with your lunch?”

“Uh, yeah, I, um, I just about finished”

“How would you feel about walking me back to work?” Mike asks, hope evident in his voice.  A smile pulls at Johnny’s lips.

“Um, yeah, sure, I’d like that.”

It’s warm when they step out, but the humidity is low enough that the heat is enjoyable. Mike switches his bag to his left hand, and slips his right into Johnny’s. That makes the butterflies panic, sending them into overdrive. Johnny tries to conceal his smile.

“What?” Mike asks, catching the way Johnny has his lips pursed together. Johnny shrugs, letting their hands swing between them.

“Nothing.”

“No, not nothing” he teases. “What? You’ve got that look on your face.”

“W-What look? This is just my face.”

Mike shakes his head, walking close enough that their shoulders bump, his steps slow. “You know, when you’re happy and you get shy about it. That look.”

“That has a look?”

“Yep. And it’s the one you’re wearing right now. You wanna answer my question?”

Johnny shrugs, his shoulder rubbing against Mike’s. “Just…never really seen you in daylight before.”

“What?” Mike laughs.

“Yeah, well…I mean, all of our dates were late at night because of our jobs. And any other time I’ve seen you has been at home. Never just bumped into you before.”

“Huh…” Mike’s face goes blank the way it does when he searches his memory. “Wow. I guess you’re right. It’s nice, being out in public, in broad daylight with you.”

“What a complement.”

“It is. Trust me.” Mike sighs. “I’m really glad I ran into you though. I’m having a hell of a day.”

“Work, huh?”

“Just like usual.”

“What is it, the perps?”

Mike huffs. “It’s the perps, it’s the other cops, it’s even some of the victims. Everything is so horribly frustrating. I know Crown Heights has been good to me, but…”

“But?” Johnny asks, squeezing Mike’s hand. Mike answers when they get to the other side of the crosswalk.

“I think I’m going to transfer.”

“Oh. W-wow…where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere. Surely there must be somewhere in this city that needs a sergeant.”

“You could do it. Any precinct would be lucky to have you.”

Johnny looks over to and finds Mike’s face, turned up in that sweet smile once again. It looks so nice in the full light of day. He looks over at Johnny. “You mean that?”

“Of course I mean that. You’re so dedicated to your work…I bet you’re a good boss.”

This time Mike laughs. “I don’t feel like a boss. But I’ll take your word for it.”

They slow as they near the precinct, which is on the other side of the street. Two blocks go by fast even when you’re going slow. Mike breathes a sigh out of his nose, which takes on a new light in the day. But in a handsome way. A beautiful way. The way that makes Johnny want to peck his lips against one of his more prominent facial features.

“I should probably head in there with their food.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Johnny says, trying not to sound too disappointed. But Mike hears it anyway and squeezes his hand tight.

“I’m hoping tonight isn’t a complete cock up, maybe I can get home before it’s dark out.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Do what you do, making the world a safer place.”

“I’ll give it my best shot.” He pulls Johnny in for a tight hug, and Johnny almost melts into Mike’s grip and the way the sun warms the part of his face that isn’t tucked into Mike’s skin. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Johnny repeats. His heart skips a beat when he gets a kiss to the cheek before he’s off, walking towards the building. Johnny watches longingly, his fingertips resting over the warm spot that still lingers long after its giver is gone from sight.

  1. _First Game_



There are very few times in life where Johnny gets to feel normal. Everywhere he goes, he is too tall to not stand out and too quiet when he speaks, usually causing an interrogation for his answers. He’s invisible at his work doing odd jobs and he’s hyper aware every time he goes into a store that there are cameras trained on him, watching him, following him. Maybe they even know who he is. Too often, Johnny can’t help imagining one big server where the entire world’s videos end up, whether they know it or not, that has records of where everyone is and has been.

But not tonight. No, tonight Johnny is just another Mets fan that gets to cheer when Cespedes hits a homerun, or boo at the umpires for making a bad call before Terry Collins has to step onto the field. Five innings into the game and Johnny’s had a hot dog, a milkshake, a bag of boiled peanuts, and a soda, because why bother screwing up his sobriety for one evening.

Johnny cheers at the next run, which puts the Mets ahead seven to one. And when he turns to sip through his straw, he catches the look Mike is giving him.

“What?” Johnny asks, looking at Mike from under his baseball cap.

“I’m just trying to remember how happy you look right now,” Mike admits. Johnny pokes Mike’s arm, more to his own deficient than Mike’s, and rolls his eyes.

“You’re so sappy.”

“I’m serious!” Mike says. “You’re should see yourself. You look so happy right now.”

“Well thank you for getting us tickets. I haven’t been to a game in years.”

“So, just mark this down? Whenever you’re upset I should get you a Mets ticket?”

“Only if you get one for yourself too.”

Mike smiles slightly and sips his beer, content, as the fifth inning ends. He expects for the general pop music to keep playing as the teams get ready for their next inning, but it doesn’t. A voice comes on over the sound system.  

“Get ready to embrace and smooch that face! Here comes the 1800flowers.com kiss cam.”

Johnny’s hands curl around the armrest, clutching it in his slick grip as the camera starts finding people in the crowd. His head lowers, hiding his face under the bill of his cap. Mike’s eyes lower, before he slides his own arm next to Johnny’s on the tiny space. Johnny’s head snaps over, his gaze jumping from Mike’s arm to his face and then back again. Mike opens his hand. Johnny’s white cheeks cave inwards as he swallows, but still his hand slips into Mike’s. His palms are burning and clammy. He keeps his head down even after the love song playing along with the camera dies down. And his grip, slowly, tightens around Mike’s hand until both of their hands are aching.

“Can I put my arm around you?” Mike asks, those tender eyes filled with their usual care. Johnny sighs and closes his eyes, and a moment later that strong arm is wrapped around him. Johnny doesn’t startle, even from the angry cries of a pissed off crowd of Mets fans around him.

He misses a whole inning, sat there with his face hidden in Mike’s neck. Still, the Mets are ahead by four when he looks up again. He doesn’t remember hearing them score…then again, Johnny doesn’t remember anything besides his battling thoughts and Mike’s smell filling his nose.

Johnny sips his soda to soothe what’s left of his nausea, and sits back in his seat. The arm around his shoulders doesn’t budge, but Mike’s other arm moves to pop Johnny’s cap back onto his head. Johnny adjusts it, while trying to remember when it got taken off.

“Thank you,” Johnny says, turning his head to look at Mike. Mike, who looks so good in the royal blue that’s too bright for him to normally wear.

“No problem. Really. Do you want to go?”

“No.” Johnny says, and rests a hand over Mike’s. “Can we stay? Please?”

He rubbed Johnny’s back, but didn’t push him for any more words as the game went on.

  1. _First Revelation_



Mike parks in front of the old building, and turns the key in the ignition so the air conditioning cuts off. Johnny squeezes his hands where they’re clasped together in his lap, trying to get himself together.

“We don’t need to do this. We can start with my mom,” Mike says, restarting their conversation.

Johnny scoffs, softly, and shakes his head. The slight curling ends of his hair tickle his cheek. “Your mother lives, like, ten hours ahead of us and calls maybe once a month on Skype.”

“So maybe that would be easier. Having it be a parent it’s…you know…not as dire with.”

Johnny huffs and pushes a hand through his hair, clearing his face. “Look, we’re here now, aren’t we? D-Don’t you trust me on this?”

“Yes. I do.” Mike replies after a moment, and offers his hand. Johnny takes it, and gives it a firm squeeze. “I just don’t want you feeling like you _have_ to do this.”

“Hey,” Johnny looks at him. “I n-never feel that way with you. You don’t do that to me. Okay?”

“Okay.” Mike nods, and they get out of the car together. It’s cooling down outside, but inside the building is too warm. It adds to the tension in Johnny’s chest as they walk up to the third floor, where his old home still resides. Johnny knocks, and Mike keeps his mouth shut instead of asking why he doesn’t just use his key. Besides, Johnny remembers a moment later and fumbles for his key, opening the door. Johnny’s mother is halfway to the door when it opens. A smile pulls across her face.

“Johnny! I thought that was you. What, did you forget you have a key?” she teases, but pulls him down for a hug. Her other arm remains at her side, holding her cane. He straightens when they separate, but still holds onto her hand. “So, where’s this special girl I’m supposed to be meeting?”

Mike can hear the anxiety that creeps up in Johnny’s voice as he answers. “Uh…did I say girl, ma? When we were on the phone? I thought I said person.”

“Oh honey, I know how you are. When you get all tongue tied it’s because you’re nervous. I just figured it was a girlfriend. So, where is she?”

“It’s…it’s um, not a girl, ma. But it’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh…oh, well alright. Bring them in.”

Mike is wearing a supportive face when Johnny comes out of the apartment, trying to ward off the disappointment on his own.

“It’ll be okay.” Mike promises quietly before following Johnny into the apartment. Johnny’s now slumped posture says otherwise.

“Mom, this is…”

“Mike, Mike Dodds.” He shakes her hand while offering his bright smile.

“Well nice to meet you, Mike Dodds.” Her face pulls into a smile, showing just how taken she already is with him. “I’m Grace, Johnny’s mom.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, thank you for letting me into your home.”

“Oh it’s no trouble. Come along, I made us dinner.”

Again, Mike gives Johnny a hopeful smile as he sits down with him at the four person kitchen table. Johnny’s mother sets down plates of “Johnny’s favorite”, turkey sandwiches on rolls with mac and cheese. Johnny eats, while Grace and Mike talk.

“So, Mike, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a police Sergeant.”

“A police sergeant?” She repeats, barely concealing her surprise.

“Sure am,” Mike agrees, before taking a bite of his sandwich. Johnny keeps his gaze down, avoiding the question in his mother’s eyes.

“So how did you and Johnny meet?”

“Johnny is actually a friend of my brother. You know, Johnny’s a real good friend. My brother…he’s had some issues, with drinking and drugs and…” Mike sighs, and sips from the plastic cup next to his plate. “Anyway, it’s good that he has at least one friend who’s proof that you can come out on the other side in one piece. That you’re not doomed.”

“That’s…wow…” Grace’s gaze turns to her son, who’s red in the face from being talked up. He sits by, quietly, and watches his mother fall in love with Mike one anecdote at a time.

Grace insists he not help with the dishes, instead relegating Mike to the living room while Johnny helps instead.

“He’s such a nice guy. And you said you’d been roommates for how long?” Grace asks as she spoons leftover macaroni into a container. Johnny sets down the plate he’s scraping off, his face burning.

“Since M-March, mom. But there’s something I need to tell you. We’re not just r-roommates.”

“Well you’re friends too, right?”

“Yeah, but mom…” Johnny wrings his fingers together, and clears his throat. “W-We…um…I like him, mom.”

“Well that’s nice, that you like your-“

“No, mom. I-I mean…I mean I-I…I like him. Like r-really like him. A lot. A lot a lot.”

His cheeks burn as he watches his mother’s face soften in recognition. “Oh…oh…”

Johnny waits, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Johnny…honey…are you confused?

He blinks. “Uh…”

“Sweetie, listen. It’s okay. I understand. I’ve been there before. But don’t let yourself get too wrapped up in this, okay? Just get it all out of your system.”

A hot anger sparks in the back of his throat, even further strangling his words.

“Oh, Johnny I understand. I went through something like this too. But it’ll be okay. Soon enough you’ll be married with children and you’ll realize how happy you can be.”

Something hard slams Johnny in the chest. He has an image of him and Mike, stood together in a framed family photo with a few faceless children. They’re all smiling. Even Johnny can see himself smiling. His heart races, but not for the same reason it always does at the thought of being photographed. A cold sweat breaks out over his skin. “I love him mom.” His voice makes her flinch back, and she rests a hand over her heart.

“Johnny-“

“No mom, don’t talk about Mike like that. Do _not_ talk about him like he’s a phase. He is not a phase. I love Mike, with all my heart.” Johnny’s voice peters out near the end, his eyes filling with tears.

“Oh Johnny, honey, please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” One of her wrinkled hands cups his hot face. “Please don’t cry.”

But he can’t help it. He can’t help the weight of the realization he’s just made, that he wants to join himself to Mike. He wants their lives to be permanently made one. Johnny wants Mike to himself forever. It shouldn’t terrify him, realizing something he’s known since someone tried to put a bullet into Mike, but it is. All at once he realizes the way Mike has breached his carefully constructed walls that have kept him at arm’s length from everyone in his life.

All of that makes him cry, right there in his mother’s kitchen. Eventually, a strong arm wraps around his shoulders, reinforcing and soothing the fears he’s feeling. 

 

  1. _First Nudity_



“Mike!” The name rips from Johnny’s throat like a shock as he watches. He clutches the handrail while running down to the bottom of their building’s steps, and kneels next to him. “Oh my god, Mike, Mike are you okay? What do I do? What do you need?”

Mike groans, and moves his leg out from under himself, his face twisting in pain. “Stupid fucking…icy steps…it’s September, dammit.”

“Mike, please. Are you okay? D-Do you need an ambulance?”

“No, no just- fuck!” Mike clutches his back and rests back against the pavement. “Just…give me a minute…”

“O-okay.” Johnny reaches for one of Mike’s hands. The one he finds grips Johnny’s tight, until Mike finds it in himself to ask Johnny for help getting up.

“It’s just m-my back,” Mike says once they’re almost back to their apartment. “My back…oh god…Johnny, please.”

“P-Please what? What do you need?” Johnny’s voice is pained, breaking over the last few words.

“Draw me a hot bath, please.”

“Okay, okay, do you wanna lie down?” Johnny asks as they pass their bed.

“No. Please, if I lay down I won’t get up.”

“Okay, okay. So, just stand here?” Johnny asks when they enter the bathroom, flicking on only the dimmer set of lights.

“Yes, fine, just please hurry.”

Johnny does as he’s told, trying not to panic every time he looks over his shoulder from the steps of the soaking tub to where Mike is half bent over the sink, his face bleached white and his knuckles the same color.  Johnny has the water on full blast, the room filling with steam while he tries to figure out what’ll happen next.

“Okay, the water’s ready.” Johnny says when he closes the faucet, going over to Mike. “Do you want me to step out or…?”

Mike gives him a hard look, though it’s undercut by his burgeoning tears. “You’re kidding me, right? I can’t walk without help and you want to leave?”

Johnny crosses his arms over his chest. “I-I’m sorry, I just-“

“Help me, _please_ , get me undressed and into the water.”

“B-But…I’ve never…you don’t mind?”

Mike sniffles and glares at Johnny. “ _Help_ me. If you’re so uncomfortable, don’t look.”

Johnny’s heartrate picks up, but he nods and carefully pries Mike’s shirt off his body. It’s harder to strip it away, since it clings onto his arms and chest like usual. Mike curses under his breath, his eyes shut tight. Johnny keeps his eyes down, away from the muscles that he’s felt rippling under his own body as he’s fallen asleep. He’s even felt it bare before, but those were a few isolated incidents, when the lights were out by the time Johnny was joined in bed.

“Can you get your pants or-“

“ _No._ ” Mike’s words leave no room for error. Johnny lifts his eyes while his hands go down to Mike’s crotch, undoing his belt, his button…his zipper…he has to push Mike’s pants and briefs down to his mid thighs before they’ll fall the rest of the way. They land with the thunk of Mike’s phone, but he doesn’t seem to care. Mike throws an arm around Johnny’s shoulder, begging him to move. And he does.

But try as he might, Johnny cannot keep his eyes off of Mike’s body. He can’t help the way he has to look at Mike’s full form, while being sure he doesn’t slip getting into the tub. He notices the curves and dips of muscles that he hasn’t seen before, and he sees how they all seem to lead him lower. Johnny’s face is on fire by the time Mike looks up from where he’s fully immersed in the water.

“Okay, well, if you’re okay-“

“Please don’t,” Mike’s hand springs up from out of the water and grabs Johnny’s. Water drips off of Mike’s hand, and Johnny’s rendered motionless, sitting on the steps of the tub. His eyes keep wandering to Mike’s body where it’s clear as day under the slight distortion of the water. His face turns darker every time his eyes draw to the part of Mike that Johnny’s dreamed of touching every so often. He feels like that’s all he can look at.

“I’m sorry,” Mike offers after a long stretch of silence, his hand looser around Johnny’s. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“I-It’s okay…I should’ve caught you…”

“Johnny,” Mike squeezes his hand. “It’s not your fault. It’s almost never your fault. The only time it was ever your fault was when you forgot to put milk on the list after finishing it.”

“Oh…yeah…sorry about that too.”

Mike smiles slightly, but still Johnny’s eyes feel like they flick down to where he shouldn’t be looking. “Don’t be. I used ice cream in my coffee instead.”

Johnny chuckles and looks at the wall on the other side of the room. His hand tightens around Mike’s when he realizes what he wants to do with Mike. Something he’s never wanted to do with anyone else before. Like usual, his body plays a game of hot and cold, distracting him from actually moving.

“I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable,” Mike offers. “You can go if you want.”

“I-I, uh…I’m okay. Kinda…kinda wanna do something else.”

“What?”

Johnny glances over, forcing his eyes to stay on Mike’s face. “I…it’s funny. I kinda wanna…” his face flames once again, and his eyes betray him before he looks at the wall. “Um…I, uh…how’re you feeling?”

“Better. Still hurts, but I’m pretty sure I can move again. If…if it’s not too much, can you rub my back later?”

“Yeah, sure, if it’ll help. I’d do anything to help you.” The words come out without him meaning to. Without missing a beat, Mike replies.

“I know. You’re good like that.”

“Well…I try…”

“What did you want to try?” Mike asks gently after a bit of silence. Johnny clears his throat, but the words stay stuck there.

“Did you…I dunno, w-want some company?”

His voice is so soft, so tender, with such an innocent sounding request…

“Sure. Always.” Mike’s voice is just as soft with the knowledge that he might startle Johnny away.

Johnny gets up and turns his back on Mike, and slowly pulls his shirt over his head. His hands move, while the debate in his mind over how good an idea this is fade away. They heighten when Johnny pushes down his pants, but quiet after a minute. Johnny stands there, naked, letting the cold wash over him, waiting for panic to overwhelm him. But it doesn’t. He turns around and slowly gets into the tub, so Mike can finally see him again.

“How do you feel?” Mike asks, his mellow voice soothing what’s left of Johnny’s angst.

“I feel good. Like this is something we’ve been working up to.” Johnny touches himself, running his hands over his thighs beneath the warm water, grounding himself. “You?”

“I feel it too,” Mike agrees easily. He slides further down into the tub, signaling that his back has started to loosen. Johnny slides down with him and scoots closer, so their thighs brush together. It heightens the sensation, touching beneath the water. Carefully, Mike lifts his arm, unleashing a small shower of water droplets as it wraps around Johnny’s shoulders, pulling him just a little closer.

 _This feels right_ Johnny thinks before pressing a soft kiss to Mike’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

  1. _First Time_



The desire that’s been growing between them for so long gets an extra shot that day, sending it into overdrive in the following weeks. Kisses become longer, lingering, more exploratory. Touches rest in places they usually would’ve fled for fear of discomfort. The amount of clothing between them diminishes as they slowly work their way back to seeing each other’s bare bodies.

Johnny knows the day has come when he’s woken by a lurid dream. His cheeks are flushed, his skin both covered and exposed are hot and his body…well, he’s reacted to the images that played in his mind. But he wants. He wants to feel as close to Mike in real life as he knows he did in his sleep. It’s torture, but Johnny waits the entire day until Mike is home, when he can kiss him and hold him. He doesn’t pull away, even as the kiss pushes into sensual territory. Mike is the one that breaks it, his eyes wide and his lips red.

“Everything okay?” Mike asks, his voice pitched up higher than usual. Johnny licks his lips and gazes into Mike’s eyes, home to so much sweet, tender care. Johnny can imagine himself diving into that bright, precious pigment.

“Yeah…I…” Johnny clears his throat, while his hands squeeze and massage the muscles of Mike’s shoulder under his touch. “I just…I’m ready.”

“You…you’re…really?” Mike asks, blinking a few times.

“Y-Yeah. If…y’know…if you are.”

“No, yes sure.” Mike lets out a nervous laugh, a blush forming over his pale cheeks. “I, uh…I just….wow, yes. I would love to…to make love to you…just…now?”

“I, uh…I’ve been waiting all day. Now would be nice.”

Mike grins, and giggles slip out of both of them as they head to the bedroom.

Mike asks Johnny if he can kiss him again.

Johnny asks if he can take off Mike’s clothes.

Mike asks Johnny if he’s okay with the lights being on.

Johnny asks Mike if this is going to change the way Mike sees him.

Mike promises Johnny that it won’t before pressing another kiss to his lips. Johnny wraps an arm around Mike’s waist, pulling him closer as they kiss. Their comforter is softer against their bodies than Johnny would’ve thought. He lets himself be warmed by Mike’s body, the heat coming off of his arms, his shoulders, his abs…his legs…

Johnny gets brave enough to reach a hand down and touch Mike, the same way he’d touch himself. He gets more confident when Mike reciprocates, both of them slowly stroking each other, listening to how their breath shifts and their moans slowly form. Soft, tentative sounds that slowly get louder. Not too loud, but loud enough to tell each other that they’re ready.

“Do you want to…y’know?” Johnny asks between soft pants of breath, pulling away only enough for them to see each other’s eyes, their bodies still pressed together.

“Um…no…” Mike searches his face. “I don’t know.”

“Oh…” Johnny reddens, again, at the thought of having to say what he’s thinking out loud. “Um…did you…like…what did you want to do?”

“Anything,” Mike replies, a little too quickly. Johnny scoots back a little, looking at him more fully.

“Well what do you usually do?”

“Anything” Mike offers, and Johnny blinks.

“Anything? No, no come on, tell me what you usually do. Really…we can work it out.”

Mike looks away, and…yes, Johnny can see the way his cheeks are turning pink. “I…I, uh…” Mike clears his throat. “I don’t.”

Johnny tries to process that, but there’s not enough blood going to his brain to make sense of it. “What?”

“I…I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh… _oh…_ ” Johnny gazes at Mike, watching the way his face folds under the weight of his nerves.

“Yeah…I’m sorry if that puts a whole lot of pressure on you, I just…I wanted you to know. Why I’m not…better.” Mike says all of this without looking at Johnny, his face darkening with every word.

“Mike…aw, Mike.” Johnny brings a hand up to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I don’t want you thinking I’m a liar or anything, because I didn’t tell you, I just-“

Johnny presses a kiss to the tip of Mike’s nose, silencing him. Johnny’s gaze is loving, those bright blue portals filled with a new layer of tenderness. “Mike…hon…it’s okay. I still love you. I don’t think any less of you now.”

“Promise?” Mike asks, forcing himself to not look away.

“Mike, of course. I love you so much.” He leans in and presses a few kisses to Mike’s cheek. “This…this was going to be so special, because it’s us and you and me and…you know now it’s going to be even more…because it’s going to…I’m rambling now, if you want to stop me.”

Mike laughs softly, and so does Johnny as they push closer together. Johnny finds Mike’s hand, and holds onto it as long as possible. Actually, they don’t let go of each other’s grips again until they lay down together once again, their bodies spent and their skin sheened with sweat. It’s not until their skin has dried that they talk.

“Wow…” Mike murmurs, snuggling closer, his ear resting over Johnny’s heart.

“Okay?” Johnny asks, sliding a hand through Mike’s hair.

“More than okay. That was…” Mike lifts his head and looks up at Johnny. “How about you? You’re feeling good?”

A smile stretches across Johnny’s face. “I feel amazing. Like I’ve never felt before.”

Mike pushes himself up so his head is lying next to Johnny’s on the pillow, while his arm moves away to pull the blanket up over their bodies. Not that Johnny needs it. Johnny’s warm enough as it is in his afterglow.

“I love you,” Mike murmurs, his hand finding its way down to Johnny’s.

“I love you too,” Johnny says back, using the same breath Mike had to speak the same words.

“And I’ll always love you.” Mike’s tender green eyes echo the sentiment. Johnny feels what’s left of his walls being burned down with that gaze.

“And I’ll always love you,” Johnny murmurs. When the words leave his mouth, Johnny has no problem believing them.

**Author's Note:**

> Woooooooooooooooow look at this story that nobody asked for! But it’s okay, this isn’t the only thing my brain came up with this week, it’s just the most complete. Good Lordy wordy, I hope someone gets some enjoyment out of this. I worked really hard on this even though it still feels really underdeveloped. Also I kinda panicked and forgot how to count months but I think it’s all worked out now.


End file.
